Runaway Mind
by Eligent
Summary: A mission is cut short when McKay starts behaving oddly. It's up to the team to figure out why and how to fix it.
1. Chapter 1

**Runaway Mind**

**by Eligent**

**Summary: **A mission is cut short when McKay starts behaving oddly. It's up to the team to figure out why and how to fix it.

**Disclaimer/Author's Note: **I own nothing. I'm not English speaking. This is my first foray into this fandom. No spoilers. I hope you like it.

* * *

M7R-383 was not an unpleasant place, Sheppard decided. The sun was shining, birds were twittering and McKay was muttering.

The team was walking through a dense forest area on their way to the only manmade structure detected on the planet, a rather large ruin complex. Another team had found it during an aerial reconnaissance a few weeks ago, but had been stumped by the unidentified energy readings coming from the ruins, which was what had landed the mission in their lap.

McKay, who was already up to his ears in the unidentified energy readings that seemed to flood this galaxy, had been moderately enthusiastic at first. Then he'd found out that all jumpers would be unavailable and the ten minute flight - quick look around - be back in time for an afternoon snack - daytrip he'd envisioned turned into a three-hour walk. Meaning a six hour roundtrip, not including the time they'd be spending at the ruins. After that he'd been outright grumpy.

Neither Sheppard nor anyone else on the team felt the least bit sorry for him. For them a three-hour hike was just a stroll in the park. Besides, the exercise could only be good for him. He spent too much time cooped up in his lab.

They'd been walking for about a half-hour. Ronon had been walking behind McKay for awhile, somewhat fascinated that someone could walk around on a new planet and be completely oblivious to one's surroundings. Security aspects aside, being from a planet where the majority of the population still thought theirs was the only populated planet in the universe, Ronon would've expected a little more curiosity. But McKay wasn't the gadget king for nothing. He was currently mesmerized by a handheld device Ronon couldn't identify. McKay's eyes were glued to it as he moved it around in the air around him.

"Why are you doing that?" Ronon asked. "We're nowhere near the ruins."

"I want to know how strong the signal is, how far it reaches," McKay said without taking his eyes off the still silent gauge.

Shaking his head, Ronon pulled away from McKay and caught up to Teyla and Sheppard, leaving McKay last in line. Suddenly McKay stumbled a bit, without anyone noticing. Counterbalancing he managed to stop himself from falling flat on his face. He slapped at a stinging sensation on his left thigh and then frowned, as if he was trying to keep up with his own thoughts.

"Hey guys, wait up," he called.

The rest of the team stopped and looked back at him.

"What?" Sheppard asked.

"My leg's broken," McKay stated matter-of-factly.

As one the team's eyes traveled down his body and stared disbelievingly at his legs.

'Well,' Sheppard thought. 'This is a new one, even for McKay.'

"It doesn't look broken," Ronon observed.

McKay also looked down at his legs, clearly puzzled. "That's funny, I could've sworn… I've twisted my ankle then," he stated, looking back up at them.

"No, you haven't," Sheppard said.

"Stubbed my toe?"

"Possibly," Sheppard conceded. "Now, can we get going?"

"Oh, sure, sure," McKay said. "Now where did I put my pack?" He looked around.

Teyla took a step towards him. "You are still wearing your pack," she said carefully.

"I am?" McKay spun around on his heels, once, twice, trying to look at his own back.

Sheppard frowned, also taking a few steps back towards McKay. "Rodney?"

McKay looked at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm fine. Except for my leg of course. It's broken."

Teyla walked up to him and put a hand on his forehead. "There is no fever."

McKay shied back from her touch. "Of course there isn't. There's nothing wrong with me."

"What about you leg then?" she asked.

"Right, right," McKay nodded. "Well, it's clearly broken."

"Okay," Sheppard said resolutely. "That's it. Time to drop those pants. Ronon, give me a hand."

Ronon took a step back, holding his hands up defensively. "Dropping his pants? No."

"Come on," Sheppard said. "If there's something wrong with his leg we've got to know."

"I'm not touching his pants," Ronon shook his head.

Teyla sighed. "I will do it." She reached for McKay's belt, but he stepped away, looking crossly at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he questioned.

"If your leg is broken we need to see it," she tried to calm him.

"Well," McKay said dignified. "I'm perfectly capable of unfastening my own pants, should it prove necessary, thank you."

"Oh, it's necessary, believe me," Sheppard said, moving in on the pair.

"Why?" McKay crossed his arms defiantly in front of his chest.

"Is your leg broken or not?" Sheppard demanded.

"Well, of course it is," McKay said in his usual, disdainful voice, "but I fail to see what that has to do with this discussion."

Sheppard looked at Ronon again, wondering if he could at least get the other man to hold McKay down.

"If your leg's broken we need to see it." Sheppard repeated Teyla's earlier word slowly and articulated, hoping to jog some sense into McKay.

McKay opened his mouth to protest further, but Sheppard forestalled him.

"Ah-ah, either you do it, or I'll have Ronon sit on you while Teyla does it."

McKay's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Fine," he spat out before looking at Teyla who still stood close enough to touch. "Turn around."

"But…," she started to protest

"Uh-uh. Turn around." McKay did a twirling motion with his index finger. Rolling her eyes Teyla turned around and walked off a few steps, with Ronon following suit. He had no desire to look the other man's bare legs. Sheppard, however, walked up to McKay and waited until he'd dropped his pants to pool around his ankles. He then squatted down.

"Right, where does it hurt?" He looked up at McKay.

"Hurt?"

"Broken legs hurt, McKay."

McKay just blinked incomprehensibly at him.

"Or not," Sheppard said to himself. He looked over the legs in front of him until he came to the left leg. There was a large, red mark on the outer side of the thigh with a drop of blood in the middle of it. "Hmm," he said. "Looks like something bit you."

"Right," McKay said, nodding vigorously. "That's what broke my leg."

"Uh-hu," Sheppard said noncommittally. "All right, let's go back to Atlantis."

The others nodded as McKay fastened his pants back up.

"Can you walk?" Sheppard asked him.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" McKay answered with a puzzled look.

"Oh, no reason. Ronon, take point."

* * *

When the gate in Atlantis whooshed open, Weir stood patiently next to the technician on duty, waiting to hear if the activation was cause for alarm or not.

"It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC, ma'am," the technician told her.

"Already?" she questioned as she nodded permission to lower the shield. "They only left an hour ago. Better get a medical team down there."

The technician nodded and put in the call as Weir made her way down into the gateroom. The team that walked through the gate looked fine to her.

"Welcome back," she said. "Unexpectedly as it is. What brought you back so soon?"

"Well," Sheppard said with a crooked smile, "Apparently McKay broke his leg."

"Rodney?" Weir looked at McKay, who nodded affirmatively. She then looked at his legs, a look of skepticism on her face. "Your legs look fine to me."

At that moment a medical team led by Beckett entered the gateroom.

"Ah, Carson," McKay said, as if greeting a long awaited appointment. "Good. I seem to have broken my leg."

"You leg? It doesn't seem…" Beckett trailed off, looking between McKay and Sheppard, trying to spot the joke, but Sheppard just shrugged at him.

"John, what happened?" Weir asked sternly.

"I have no idea," the Colonel answered. "McKay just started insisting that his leg's broken and we can't get him to stop. There's an ugly bug bite on his leg, so we thought we'd let good ol' doc Beckett look him over."

"Sounds like a good idea," Weir agreed.

"Which leg?" Beckett asked.

"Left," Sheppard and McKay answered in unison. "My left, that is," McKay clarified.

"All right then Rodney, we'll get you a gurney," Beckett said, moving closer to his patient.

"No need," McKay said cooperatively. "I can walk on my own."

"With a broken leg?" Beckett questioned skeptically.

"Sure, why not. Shall we?" McKay started walking towards the infirmary, clearly expecting Beckett to follow him. Beckett turned and looked rather bewildered at the others before jogging a few steps to catch up to McKay.

"Well," Weir remarked. "At least he seems to be in rather good spirits about it."

"Yeah, I know," Sheppard agreed. "Creepy, isn't it."

* * *

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

"Rodney, do you know what this is?" Beckett approached the hospital bed warily. McKay was being much too happy and agreeable.

"Of course," McKay said, sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed, which should be impossible concerning the injury he claimed to have. "It's an X-ray."

"That's right," Beckett said. "This is an X-ray picture of a leg. How does it look to you?"

McKay glanced at the picture. "Looks normal," he said nonchalantly without much interest. "Looks good."

"It is," Beckett said, looking at the picture of a perfectly healthy femur. "It's your leg, Rodney. And it's perfectly fine."

"Oh, that's good," McKay said, looking rather pleased.

"So how does your leg feel?" Beckett asked carefully.

"It's broken."

Beckett sighed. "Just… Just stay here for awhile, all right? I'll be right back."

The rest of the team along with Weir was waiting on the other side of the infirmary.

"Doctor, how is he?" Teyla asked.

Beckett shook his head in amazement. "It- it's the oddest thing. There's nothing wrong with him, but he can't seem to understand that. He agrees that broken legs usually hurt yet he says he's not in pain, he agrees that you can't walk on a broken leg yet he doesn't find it strange that he had no problem walking. He agrees that the X-ray looks normal and still he keeps insisting that his leg's broken. I mean, sure, he tends to be a tad hypochondriac at times-" Sheppard smirked at the understatement. "-but he's not illogical. It's like he's been brainwashed. He really thinks his leg's broken."

"What kind of bug brainwashes you to believe your leg's broken?" Sheppard asked unbelievingly.

Beckett shook his head, knowing full well how his next piece of news would be received. "I don't think he was bitten by a bug, Colonel," he explained. "I've taken a look at the wound and in my opinion it was done by a small dart."

The team looked at each other, their attention suddenly piqued.

"A dart?" Teyla exclaimed, slightly wide-eyed.

"Like a blow dart? Are you saying he was shot?" Sheppard wasn't happy.

"There were people on that planet?" Ronon's brows were furrowed in disbelief.

"We did not see a dart," Teyla said, looking at her teammates. "Did we?"

Ronon and Sheppard both shook their heads. "We didn't see any signs of habitation, either," Ronon stated.

"But what was on the dart that makes him think his leg's broken?" Weir wanted to know. "Was he drugged? Poisoned?"

Beckett shrugged. "Probably. I don't know. I'm running a battery of tests right now. Come back in a few hours and I'll know more. And I want to check you lot over too, just in case. Please see my staff right away."

* * *

After having been given a clean bill of health, Sheppard, Weir, Ronon and Teyla gathered in the conference room on Weir's insistence. Sheppard was seething. How could he have missed that McKay had been shot? How had he missed that there was a threat to his team?

"We should go back and talk to the inhabitants of the planet," Teyla said calmly.

"They shot one of us unprovoked!" Sheppard was pacing and fuming.

"We were armed," Ronon pointed out.

"That could be provocation enough," Teyla agreed.

Sheppard glared at them, not liking them playing devil's advocate. He wanted to be angry right now. "Well, I'm not going back unarmed."

"No one's asking you to," Weir calmed him. "Did any of you see or hear anything?"

The all shook their heads.

"Dr. Beckett mentioned that a dart was responsible," Teyla said. "That would indicate a blowpipe. Not harmful in themselves, but often dipped in some sort of poison."

"Yes," Weir said. "We have them on Earth too."

"It's a common weapon amongst primitive people," Ronon said. "Could've just been frightened of us."

"But why not a full-blown attack, then?" Sheppard wondered. "Why just that one dart? And why McKay? It didn't exactly incapacitate him either, it just made him… uh…"

"Disoriented?" Teyla offered diplomatically. "Perhaps they did not wish to harm him, perhaps they simply wanted us to react exactly the way we did."

Sheppard looked questioningly at her.

"We left," she stated simply.

"But they have to have known that we would come back," Sheppard said. "We're not just going to let them brainwash McKay, or whatever it was they did to him. They have to fix him."

"We'll hold off on a final decision until we've heard back from Dr. Beckett," Weir decided. "Maybe he'll be able to figure it out."

* * *

Beckett was at the far end of the infirmary when they came back. As they walked past McKay's bed they saw him in deep concentration, twisting a Rubik's cube in his hands, apparently without much success.

"That's odd," Sheppard remarked.

"Yes," Weir agreed. "You'd think he'd be able to solve one of those in a heartbeat."

"That too," Sheppard said. "But that's not what I was thinking. I know McKay likes to tell us how smart he is, but that seems a little beneath him, don't you think? Kind of like cheating."

"What is that?" Teyla asked.

"It's a game," Weir explained. "A mechanical puzzle. You're supposed to twist it around until you get all squares of the same color on the same side. Generally you're thought to have to be pretty smart to do it."

"And yet Dr. McKay seem to be struggling with it," Teyla observed.

"You're right," Beckett said, joining them. "We gave him that to distract him. He was much too obsessed."

"I know what you mean," Sheppard said. "We couldn't get him to shut up about his leg on the way back. He wouldn't talk about anything else."

"Yes…" Beckett said. "We've experienced that as well. However, I'm afraid things have taken a turn for the worse."

They all looked at his serious face, and then back at McKay, who was still engrossed in his game.

"He looks okay to me," Sheppard remarked.

"Carson?" Weir asked for a clarification.

Beckett just shook his head. "I can't explain it, it's… well, let me show you," he said as McKay looked up and shouted "Carson!"

McKay proudly held up the Rubik's cube to Beckett to show that while the other five sides were still a jumble of colors, all red squares were on the same side.

"That's very good, Rodney," Beckett praised him as they gathered around the bed. The others looked strangely at him.

"You see," Beckett said, taking the cube from McKay's hand only to discover that his thumb had been hiding a blue square among all the red ones. He sighed as he handed the cube over to Sheppard. "Rodney is still capable of simple conversation, such as 'are you hungry', 'are you in pain'. But if you ask him something more difficult, something that actually requires thought… well…"

He turned to McKay. "Rodney, what's a super nova?"

McKay gave him a rather smug face. "My leg's broken."

Beckett nodded. "Yes, I know. And how does a ZPM work?"

McKay blinked incomprehensively at him before once again stating surely, "My leg's broken."

Weir looked sharply at Beckett. "Is he aware that he's saying the wrong thing?"

"It's hard to tell," Beckett said. "But I don't think so. I believe he'd be more agitated if that was the case. And he seems to understand us just fine, even if his attention span is… well, just a wee bit short at times," he said as McKay, instead of listening to a conversation he normally would be very invested in, was trying to get the Rubik's cube back from Sheppard, who released it without a fight.

"How do you know he understands us?" Ronon asked.

"Because he can still answer simple questions," Beckett said. "Rodney, are you thirsty?"

"No," McKay answered shortly as he jumbled up all the red squares again, before informing them solemnly, "My leg's broken."

"He's also very docile," Beckett said, ignoring the remark. "No trouble at all, actually. Normally I like that in a patient, but I'll be honest with you. This scares me. He also seems more… more…"

"Juvenile?" Weir asked as McKay made two squares change place simply by peeling off the small stickers and with a triumphant smile let them take each other's place.

"Yes," Beckett confirmed. "Don't get me wrong, he isn't regressing back into childhood or anything. But his IQ seems to be dropping, and disturbingly fast."

"But why?" Weir wanted to know.

Beckett gestured for them to follow him away from the bed. "I've put him through every test I can think of, MRI, CAT scan, X-rays, you name it. I can now say that there's absolutely, positively nothing wrong with his leg or any other part of his body. But I found an unknown substance in his blood. It's like nothing I've ever seen on Earth. He's got a slight temperature, but it's really blink and you'll miss it. Probably just his body trying to fight the poison. Other than that it's not affecting him physically at all, he's really in perfect health, except for the-" He looked back over his shoulder and saw McKay making his way off the bed.

"Rodney, where're you going?" he called.

McKay looked at him and simply answered, "Up."

"You can't leave the bed if your leg's broken," Beckett admonished him. "Remember? We talked about this. You can't walk on a broken leg."

McKay seemed to give this a moment's thought and then climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

"Except for that," Beckett finished, turning back to the others.

"The substance is biological," Beckett continued. "Probably from a local plant or venomous creature. But as the people on the planet have managed to harvest it and produce it in such concentrated quality it's a high probability that they've also found or developed an antidote."

"Well, there you have it," Sheppard said. "We're going back."

As they were walking out of the infirmary Sheppard turned back and looked at McKay, then he said to no one in particular, "You know what? When things like this happen, wouldn't it sometimes be nice to be able to say that this is the strangest thing we've ever seen?"

* * *

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

It was late afternoon when the team made their return journey to M7R-383

It was late afternoon when the team made their return journey to M7R-383. A very short, elderly woman stood next to the DHD as they emerged back on the planet. With a hand cautiously resting atop his weapon Sheppard approached her.

"Hello," he said. "I'm John Sheppard, and this is Telya and Ronon." He indicated his companions.

The woman nodded. "I Mela. Wait you. Come." She turned around and started walking towards the forest in the opposite direction from where they'd gone this morning when they'd trekked towards the plains.

"I believe we were just invited to follow," Teyla said.

"Okay then," Sheppard said, his narrowed eyes following the woman. "Stay alert and stay together."

The team followed Mela, who was surprisingly agile for her age, through the thick forest. There were no paths or roads, but Mela appeared to know where she was going. Both Sheppard and Teyla tried to ask her questions as they walked, but Mela just smiled serenely at them and motioned for them to keep walking. Half an hour of traipsing through the undergrowth later they came upon a rather big camp. The huts were obviously not permanent dwellings. They were arranged in a semi-circle around what looked like a communal cooking area. The people milling about were all of the same short stature as Mela. They all looked rather curiously at the strangers, but no one approached them.

Looking around the camp Teyla noted, "This does not appear to be a permanent village. I believe they are nomads."

Mela nodded. "Yes. Walk long, walk much. Here only two suns, two moons. Come." She gestured for them to follow her into a hut. They all had to duck to go through the low opening as Mela held the flap open for them.

The hut was gloomy. There were no windows, only an opening in the ceiling to let the smoke from the fire out. Even though it was summer temperature outside, the hearth showed signs of recent use as glowing embers winked at them in the dark. The hut seemed to be made from some kind of animal hide strung over a wooden structure. There was a permanent, but not unpleasant, smell of wood smoke clinging to the hides. Sleeping pallets were arranged around the walls and in the middle, around the fire, the grassy ground was covered with mats.

Mela gestured for them to sit down on the ground. Doing as they were bid they folded their legs underneath them and waited for their eyes to adapt to the dark interior. Mela fetched a bundle covered in the same kind of animal hide as the hut was made of. Laying it on the ground she unwrapped it, laying it out like a tool belt. Sheppard stretched his neck to see the items presented.

Several long-stemmed, slightly wilted plants were bunched together on one side, half of them green, the other half of a red-purplish color. There was also a leather pouch and several unadorned earthenware jars with wax-sealed stops.

Mela took a knife from her belt. She smiled at them and picked up one of the green plants. She plucked a few of the leaves from it and put them in bowl and using the handle of the knife she crushed them against the bottom of the bowl. She then cut the plant's stem lengthwise and showed them that there was a white, milky substance inside. Sheppard thought it looked sickly, the way the sticky substance slowly welled up in the cut. Mela scraped the substance into the bowl and added a few drops of water and stirred it together into a paste. She then opened the leather pouch and shook out several small darts, fletched with small, brown feathers. Mela picked up one dart and dipped it in the paste. She then mimed using a blowgun.

"For hunt," she said. "Kill _moluk_, no kill human."

"Moluk?" Sheppard repeated, stumbling slightly over the guttural pronunciation. "You think that's their name for the Wraith?" he asked his team.

"Rate?" Mela tried the unfamiliar syllables.

"Yeah, you know ugly, pale, fishy-face guys with poor dental hygiene that suck the life out of you?" Sheppard mimicked making his own hand into a claw and stuck it to his own chest.

"Ah, Yera," Mela said knowingly.

"Yera?" Ronon repeated.

"Must be their name for the Wraith," Teyla said.

"No Yera many ancestors," Mela said, shaking her head. "Walk Yera no find."

"I do not believe the Wraith have been here in many generations," Teyla translated, unsure if the men had understood the old woman. "And that is most likely why they are nomadic, to keep ahead of the Wraith."

"Could work," Ronon shrugged. "We couldn't find them before. If the population is small and always moving, the Wraith might not have bothered to come if they knew of easier hunting grounds."

"What's a mollusk then?" Sheppard asked.

"Not mollusk, moluk," Teyla corrected him with perfect pronunciation.

"Yes," Mela nodded and gestured around her. "Eat moluk, live moluk, moluk good." She took three pieces of what looked like beef jerky out of a pouch that hung on her belt and held it out to them.

Sheppard looked at it and then bit into it, a little suspicious. It was much tenderer than it looked. A little tangy in taste perhaps, but not bad. At least it didn't taste like chicken. "Mmm," he hummed and smiled at Mela, who smiled back satisfied.

"Our friend," Teyla said, leaning forward and pointing at dart Mela had put back on the ground. "Was he poisoned by this?"

Mela frowned at the unknown word, but understood her question nonetheless. "Yes. No kill human, but no good human. Your friend, one thought, yes?"

"Yes," Sheppard said. "He thinks his leg's broken."

"Leg no broken, thought broken." Mela sadly tapped her index finger at her temple.

"But you can fix that, right?" Sheppard pressed on.

Mela smiled at them and lifted up one of the red plants. She cut it too lengthwise and showed them the substance inside. It was clear with a pinkish tint and oozed slowly downwards as the plant was tilted. "With this," she said and held out a water skin to Teyla.

Teyla opened it and tasted it. "It is only water," she said to the others. "How much?" she asked Mela.

"One _muka_," Mela held up one of the red plants, "one skin."

"That's easy to remember," Sheppard remarked. "And how much are we supposed to give him?"

Mela smiled at him. "Ready for friend." She held two of the jars from the bundle up to Sheppard's face showing him that one of them had a green stripe painted around the neck and the other had a red stripe. "Safe," she said, holding out the red jar. "No safe," was the green jar.

"Already made, huh?" Sheppard said, taking both jars. "Just like a TV cook." The joke fell flat.

"And this'll make him okay again, right?" Sheppard asked, looking from the jars to Mela.

Suddenly Mela looked serious, which made Sheppard nervous. Mela's limited vocabulary and understanding of their language made it difficult to understand what she wanted to say, but with Teyla's diplomatic talents and a lot of body language they soon understood that usually the antidote was administered very soon after an accidental poisoning, usually within the hour as all hunters traveled with the antidote. Mela had no idea how it would affect someone who'd gone untreated as long as McKay had, and she was clearly worried.

"All right," Sheppard decided, feeling anxious. "We're heading back right now."

Mela rolled up the bundle again, with several plants as well as several jars of both kinds in it. She handed it to Teyla who took it, thanking the old woman profusely.

As they stepped out of the hut dusk was falling, but it was still bright enough to see. Sheppard noticed that Ronon looked unsettled.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"We still don't know why they attacked McKay," Ronon told him, looking suspiciously at the people walking around the camp.

Mela heard his words and turned her serious face towards them, motioning for them to accompany her behind the huts.

Sheppard felt stressed, wanting to get back with the antidote as soon as possible, but realized the value of finding out what had happened. They followed Mela around to the back of the huts where they saw two women and a teenage girl stringing up a skin between two trees. The ground around them was filled with tufts of fur and other byproducts of the skin preparation.

"Whoa," Sheppard commented as he saw the skin stretched out in front of him. "They hunt _that_ with blowpipes?"

The skin was dark brown, smooth and would've made a nice, snug coat for an elephant.

"Moluk," Mela explained needlessly.

"There's no way they mistook McKay for one of those things," Ronon said with emphasis.

"Shirian!" Mela called. "Shirian!"

A young boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, stuck his head out from the other side of the skin and ran out to stand next to Mela, his head hung low, though he couldn't help peeking at the strangers through his eyelashes. Mela put her hand on his head.

"This Shirian. Shirian mother hunt. Shirian father hunt. Shirian sister hunt. Shirian play. Shirian train. Shirian accident. Your friend accident. Shirian scared, run to me. I come with _muka_, you gone."

Sheppard nodded to indicate that he'd understood.

The boy looked up at Mela and said something in their guttural language. She smiled at him.

"Shirian sad for friend," she said to the team. "You tell friend Shirian sad?"

"We will tell him," Teyla promised.

* * *

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

As the team took the step that separated the rapidly falling night from the artificial lighting of the gateroom, Beckett and Weir were waiting anxiously for them on the other side of the gate

As the team took the step that separated the rapidly falling night from the artificial lighting of the gateroom, Beckett and Weir were waiting anxiously for them on the other side of the gate.

"How's he doing, doc?" Sheppard asked before the gate had even shut down.

"Physically he's still fine," Beckett explained before shaking his head sadly. "But I'm afraid he's stopped talking all together now. Don't know what to make of it."

"A silent McKay?" Ronon said with a raised eyebrow. "This I've got to see."

Sheppard scowled at him. This was not good news. "What do you mean he's stopped talking?"

"First he lost the ability to answer simple question, the only thing he said was 'My leg's broken.' And about an hour ago, he stopped doing that too. He looks like he wants to talk, but he can't get the sounds out. Did you find out why he thinks his leg's broken?"

"Yes, tell me what happened," Weir interposed. "Did you meet the locals? Were they hostile?"

"Nope, very friendly," Sheppard smiled. "Just my kind of locals. We met a woman, Mela, who tried to explain everything to us."

"Tried to?" Beckett asked.

"There were… linguistic difficulties," Teyla said. "But I believe that what she was trying to tell us was that while the poison isn't lethal for humans, it can be very damaging. According to the stories told by those who have been accidentally poisoned in the past the poison affected their minds so that they became so focused on one single thought that everything else lost importance. But they are not advanced enough to be able to explain why this happens, they simply know that that is the way it is. However, no one has ever been afflicted as Dr. McKay has been as no one has ever gone untreated this long. Mela expressed concern that it might no longer be reversible. It is a very fast-acting poison."

"Well, it would have to be, to bring down one of those beasts," Sheppard interjected. "They use it for hunting."

"But there is an antidote?" Beckett asked.

"Yes," Teyla answered as they started walking towards the infirmary. "We have both the poison and the antidote, as well as the plants they originate from." She pulled the bundle out of her backpack and handed it to Beckett.

"Good, that's great. And they told you how to administer it?"

"Sure," Sheppard said. "They even showed us how to make it."

Beckett looked hopeful. "That's just wonderful. You will be able to show me, then?"

Ronon and Sheppard looked at each other. "No," they said in unison.

"I can show you, Doctor," Teyla promised. "It is not difficult."

"Good. Thank you."

"Did they tell you why they shot Rodney?" Weir asked.

"Accident, apparently," Sheppard answered. "A little kid out playing hunter like mommy and daddy. He didn't mean any harm."

"Good," Weir said, relieved that she didn't have to worry about yet another enemy.

As they walked into the infirmary McKay immediately caught sight of them. He waved them over with a look of impatience and once they'd gathered around him he patted his left leg rather urgently, looking at them with a burning question in his eyes.

"He does that a lot," Beckett said. "I think it's to remind us that he thinks his leg's broken."

McKay didn't react to Beckett's statement; he just kept patting his leg, looking between them, grunting in frustration when the words failed him.

"We know," Teyla said, patting his arm comfortingly. "We know. We have the antidote, you will be fine now."

"Okay then, let's get the antidote in him," Sheppard said, reaching for the bundle they'd relinquished into Beckett's hands, but Beckett held it away from him.

"Not so fast," he admonished Sheppard. "I'd very much like to know what I put in my patients, if you don't mind."

"What?" Sheppard exploded.

"It won't take long, Colonel," Beckett promised. "I just want to see what it is. Teyla, can you show me what the woman did?"

They walked over to a lab bench and Sheppard trailed after them.

"They gave you quite a lot," Beckett remarked as he unwrapped the bundle.

"They use it to hunt this big mammoth-type beastie-" Sheppard said.

"A moluk," Teyla interrupted.

"Yeah," Sheppard said, "What she said. Anyway, they gave us enough so that if we ever came back, we'd be able to take one down if we happened to run into one. The green ones are the poison and the red ones are the antidote."

Weir came and looked over their shoulders. "Do you think this could be used against the Wraith?"

"And get them stuck in a single thought?" Sheppard said incredulously. "Don't you think they're single-minded as it is?"

"It works differently on humans and moluks," Teyla pointed out. "Perhaps it will work differently on the Wraith as well."

"Carson?" Weir wondered.

"I'll look into it," the doctor promised.

"After you fix McKay," Sheppard said sternly.

"Aye, Colonel. I believe that goes without saying."

* * *

The team waited for Beckett to finish his analyses in different states of mind.

Ronon was lounging on an empty bed in the infirmary, playing listlessly with McKay's abandoned Rubik's cube, outwardly looking as if he didn't have a care in the world. His teammates weren't fooled though. Ronon had a protective streak as big as McKay's ego.

Teyla sat on a chair next to McKay's bed, calming him when he became too agitated. His previous good behavior had disappeared with his ability to talk and he now craved constant attention.

Weir was keeping up with her duties via her radio and a steady stream of running messengers.

Sheppard had one arm crossed across his body, his other elbow resting on that arm, his clenched fist beating against his chin as he paced the floor. "Come on, doc," he said. "Mela said that every minute counts."

"I'm not going to put another alien substance into him without knowing what it'll do, Colonel," Beckett answered without lifting his eyes off the microscope. "I'm sorry, I'm working as fast as I can."

Sheppard looked over at McKay who was fiddling with the blanket on top of his proclaimed bad leg. It was treacherous, how healthy and normal he looked. What if they didn't get him back? Was McKay supposed to live his life in that vacuum? Never again having a thought that didn't concern his leg? That was how Mela had put it, wasn't it, that his mind had got stuck in one thought. He was so preoccupied with his perfectly healthy leg that he couldn't even remember how to talk anymore. What if he forgot how to eat next? Or how to walk or, god forbid, how to breathe? He wouldn't be able to take care of himself; they would have to send him back to Earth where he would have to live out the rest of his life in some kind of nursing facility.

Sheppard took a few steps closer to the bed. Only this morning McKay had been complaining about how they were wasting his time by making him walk to the ruins instead of flying him there. Now he was patting his leg, almost desperately, trying to call everyone's attention to a leg that wasn't broken at all. He'd end up in a mental institution if this wasn't reversed, Sheppard realized. No one on Earth would understand and no one from Atlantis would be there to explain it to them. Was that what was to become of Dr. Rodney McKay? Not if Sheppard could do anything about it.

With new determination Sheppard marched into lab part of the infirmary where Beckett was still bent over his microscope. Leaning over him Sheppard grabbed one of the jars with a red stripe around its neck and walked away.

Beckett came out of his chair and hurried after him. "Colonel, what do you think you're doing?"

"We're not waiting any longer," Sheppard said with a hard voice. "You can do your tests later. Mela said it's fine and I have no reason to distrust her. McKay is drinking the antidote now."

Weir approached them warily. "Carson? John?"

"I haven't finished yet," Beckett told them. "I'm not sure it's safe."

"But I am," Sheppard said.

"I'm sorry, John, but this is a medical decision," Weir said sympathetically.

"But he's not making the right decision," Sheppard yelled, well aware of the alert looks of his teammates behind his back. They had heard Mela too, they would back him up.

"Carson?" Weir asked again as the doctor was looking more and more hesitant.

"I… I…" Beckett hesitated, looking from his patient to Sheppard's grim face. "Alright then, let's give it to him. If you trust these people, Colonel…"

"I do."

"…then I guess I do too."

"Finally."

Sheppard approached McKay's bed with jar in his hand, using the other hand to work the wax seal off the stopper. As he put the jar in McKay's hand, McKay looked up at them as if he was wondering what was happening.

"Don't worry, Rodney," Beckett said patting his shoulder comfortingly. "This'll have you back on your feet in no time." 'I hope', he added silently to himself.

McKay sniffed the content of the jar and looked a little suspicious.

"Go on," Sheppard encouraged him.

McKay glared at him, but took a deep breath and downed the antidote in one big gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste. Teyla handed him a glass of water to wash it down.

"Now what?" Sheppard asked.

"Now we wait," Beckett responded. "Rodney, how's your leg?"

There was no answer.

* * *

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

"McKay, how's the leg?"

"…"

* * *

"Rodney, how's your leg?"

"…"

* * *

"McKay, how're you feeling?"

"Ngh."

"Well, it's a start. Good for you."

* * *

"Rodney, how's your leg?"

"Broken."

"Glad to hear it, lad. Glad to hear it."

* * *

"McKay, how're you doing?"

"My leg's broken."

"You don't say."

* * *

"Rodney, any change?"

"My leg's broken."

"Still, huh?"

* * *

"McKay, what's your favorite movie?"

"My leg's broken."

"Really, I haven't seen that one. Your favorite song then?"

"My leg's broken."

"Hmm, 'fraid I don't know that one either. Favorite food?"

"My leg's broken."

"Your mom cook that often? Sounds a little yucky to me. Say, I was thinking of borrowing a book from you. Anything in particular you can recommend?"

"My leg's broken."

"Oh really, because—"

"For heaven's sake, Colonel, stop pestering the poor man."

* * *

"Rodney, how're you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"How about your leg?"

"It's broken."

"Of course it is."

* * *

"McKay, is your leg broken?"

"No."

"Well, how is it then?"

"It's broken."

* * *

"McKay, how're you?"

"I'm fine."

"And your leg?"

"It's fine."

* * *

"Rodney, how's the leg?"

"It's fine, Carson. Really."

"Well, that's good to hear."

* * *

"McKay, my man! How's that famous leg of yours? Broken at all?"

"No! For the love of god, will you stop asking me that! There's absolutely nothing wrong with my leg. There never was anything wrong with my leg. I admit, my tap-dancing isn't what it used to be, I never wanted to take those lessons anyway, mom made me, but unless you stop asking me about my leg, I'll be more than happy to demonstrate my feeble skills on your head! Just you wait until the next time you get infected with an alien poison. I am going to hound you with imbecile questions until your head explodes and once it's done that I'm going to ask, 'Hey, John, how come you head exploded?' Now get out of here before I really break my leg kicking you out! Go!"

There was a moment of silence, then, "You tap-dance?"

"Argh!"

* * *

"And where do you think you're going?" Beckett asked the next morning as he walked in on McKay tying his shoelaces.

"To my lab. At least I'll find something constructive to do there," McKay said testily.

Beckett shook his head. "As I recall, I haven't discharged you yet, Rodney. Back in bed you go."

McKay looked up at him. "What? Are you serious? There's nothing wrong with me, Carson and you bloody well know it. This is ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous? I think not. Must I remind you that just yesterday you couldn't string together a sentence to save your life?"

"And the day before yesterday I could and today I can again. Funny how things work out, don't you think? Hm? Come on, Carson, my last two blood tests were clean. There's nothing wrong with me."

Beckett studied him for a moment. McKay did look and act his normal self. "Tell you what," he conceded. "One more blood test, and if that comes out clean as well you're free to go."

"Another one?" McKay squeaked undignified as he was pushed back onto the bed. "You're trying to make me anemic, aren't you?" he said accusingly.

"Yes, that's it exactly. You've uncovered my diabolical plan for world domination," Beckett said wryly as he motioned for McKay to hold his arm out and then tied a cord around it. "Blood tests don't make you anemic, Rodney, you've got nothing to worry about."

They both fell silent as the needle pricked the vein in the crook of McKay's arm.

"So how're you doing?" Beckett asked casually.

"A little lightheaded from the blood loss…" McKay said petulantly, watching his blood fill up the vial.

Beckett glared at him.

"I told you, I'm fine," McKay grumbled.

"There you go, all done," Beckett said as he pulled the needle out, pressed a piece of gauze to the drop of blood that welled up and urged McKay to bend his arm to keep pressure on it. "I meant with all that's been happening," he clarified as he marked the vial of blood with instructions. "How much do you remember from yesterday?"

"Disturbingly enough, everything." McKay shuddered. "I remember feeling a biting sensation on my leg and I stumbled, but managed to stay upright. I remember thinking that I was lucky I didn't fall and break my leg. Break my leg… those words just stuck and after that my leg was the only thing that mattered. I was so sure it was broken. I knew there was something wrong with it and I didn't understand why no one else could see it. It was so clear to me, so important. Nothing else mattered. And yet, somewhere in the back of my mind there was a part of me that knew that there were other things I should be focusing on, but that part just couldn't get control. It's like I was trapped. It was incredibly frustrating."

Beckett looked at him sympathetically. "I can imagine," he said, breaking McKay out of his somber contemplations.

McKay cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, it's over now. How long's that going to take?" he asked, nodding to the test tube.

"Don't worry," Beckett said. "I'll put a rush on it. In the mean time you sit tight."

"But this place is so boring," McKay whined. "There's nothing to do here."

"Well, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but it's the hospital clown's day off," Beckett said sarcastically.

"You could always call Sheppard," McKay suggested morosely. "I'm sure he'd be perfect for the job."

* * *

**Epilogue:**

Two days later the team was back on M7R-383, this time in a jumper. Sheppard was disappointed. They'd flown around for over an hour now, but there was no sign of Mela's people anywhere and their campsite was abandoned. The jumper had now left the forest areas and was flying over a grassy plain on the way to the ruins.

"I'm telling you McKay," Sheppard said. "It's a shame you didn't get to meet them. They're really nice people. And the kid seemed really sorry that he'd hit you."

"Yeah, well, that's all well and good then," McKay said distractedly, hunched over his monitor as he were. "But I hope you'll forgive me for not putting them on my Christmas card list just yet."

"Wow… Would you look at that," Sheppard said amazed as he lowered the jumper further towards the plain they were flying over and slowed it down.

"What?" McKay asked, looking up.

"It's those mollusks," Sheppard told him. "I'm telling you, all they need is a trunk and big, floppy ears, and they'll be first cousins with the mammoth."

"They are called moluks," Teyla patiently reminded him again.

McKay and Ronon moved up the jumper to look over Sheppard and Teyla's shoulders at the two beautiful animals that were slowly lumbering across the plains.

"Hmm," McKay said. "They're kind of big… could feed a lot of people. Say, how did they taste?"

"What?" Sheppard looked back at him.

"I'm just saying, a little variation in our food supply could be a good thing. Isn't that why that woman gave you all that poison?"

"And how are you planning to get it through the Stargate?" Sheppard asked. "I don't think it'll fit in the jumper. Or do you want to kill it here? And cut it up?"

McKay looked grossed out by the thought. "Don't we have people that can do that?"

"Sorry, McKay, but I don't think our mess staff is trained in the hunting and slaughtering of mollusks."

"They are moluks," Teyla said yet again.

"I know that," Sheppard said as he pulled the jumper up in the air again. "We should be seeing the ruins soon."

"Oh." McKay hurried back to his instruments.

The ruins stood on top of a hill and Sheppard put the jumper down on a flat surface near them. As they exited Sheppard asked McKay, "Okay, where do you want to go?"

McKay was frowning as he consulted his scanner. "Huh," he said. "Seems like the energy reading is coming from inside the hill."

"Alright," Sheppard said. "Spread out and look for a way down. McKay, you're with me."

"So…" Sheppard said slowly as they weaved through the crumbling walls of the long abandoned structure, "You feeling alright now?"

"What? Huh? Oh, yeah, sure," McKay answered without paying much attention.

"Cause I've gotta tell you, it was a bit creepy seeing you all quiet like that." Sheppard stopped and pointed, "Look, that looks like a stairwell."

"Well, I suppose this was a lesson in humility for all of us," McKay said loftily as they changed direction.

"All of us?" Sheppard questioned, one eyebrow in the air.

"Yes, next time, let's not take my intelligence for granted. Hm?" He smiled smugly.

"I'll try to think of that," Sheppard promised without much sincerity as they neared the sought for stairwell that would take them down into the basement of the ruins.

"Yes," McKay agreed. "I think that is something we should all take the time to reflect on—aah!" McKay hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking and had missed the first step. Now he was tumbling down the stairs.

"McKay! Rodney! Are you okay?" Sheppard ran down the stairs and knelt on the floor next to the groaning McKay.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. This can not be happening!" McKay moaned.

"Rodney? Talk to me. Are you okay?"

"You're not gonna believe this. I think my leg's broken."

The End

* * *

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this story. I hope you liked it. And a special thank you to those who have been kind enough to send reviews. I really appreciate it. Thank you!


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